Happy Birthday, Science Bro
by SiriuslyScarredforLife
Summary: "That's when he realises that, maybe, Tony knew Bruce as well as Bruce knew Tony because, in hindsight, it's quite clear." Science Bros show how they care in small, ways that touch Bruce's heart.


Title: Happy Birthday, Science Bro

Pairing: Bruce Banner/ Hulk x Tony Stark/ Iron Man

Summary: Science Bros are forever.

Disclaimer: Any Science Bro fluff doesn't and will never belong to me. *sob*

**Happy Birthday, Science Bro!**

It's another average day when Bruce wakes up in the morning. Sometimes, he can't believe he's actually there, that he's part of the Avengers Initiative and not on the run from his ex-girlfriend's evil father anymore. Then he'd look around his lush living quarters, so different than the poor, dingy ones he was so used to, and the truth would come back to him in a flood of memories. The huge bedroom, the king-sized bed with glaring green and deep-shaded purple pillows and bed covers, the huge, high-def TV positioned on the wide wall. It was all real, and Bruce sometimes couldn't accept it.

Of course, Bruce hadn't requested the king-sized bed at first. But then Tony pushed and _pushed _and it was all Bruce could do to accept _it_, and all the other things Tony offered and gave.

As per usual, he takes the usual, cursory glance around the room, just soaking up small details others would skim over but Bruce always noted down, whether for future reference of just for those times when he was feeling nostalgic and he feels as though he would never hesitate to admit the room always looks breath-taking.

Then he stands up and stretches like a cat, feeling relief at his body's groan and the clicks and cracks as his bones snaps into place from one of his rare, peaceful sleeps, something which only comes about after a long, gruelling hard day with Tony down at the lab. He would then shuffle to the bathroom where he'd brush and freshen up. He'd sometimes spend about half an hour in there, taking care in his appearance _not _to look like a living undead. He didn't know why exactly he did that, because he _knew _he didn't take that long before and there was nobody else in the mansion to impress but Tony and Bruce and, occasionally, Ms. Potts, but living in poverty so long, he could indulge a bit, couldn't he?

He would then walk over to his closet, looking a little more alive than before, and he'd throw on the first shirt he'd find, which was usually a random Black Sabbath shirt or an AC/DC shirt that Tony would always forget to get back from another of his dumping stations littering the mansion, leaving Bruce to pick up after him. Sometimes Bruce felt he did it on purpose, just to see him wearing one of his shirts, to see a little bit of Tony in Bruce. But that's preposterous, because Bruce knows there's more Tony now in him than Tony would ever know.

Months of living with said genius feeling like years, Bruce feels as though he's belonged in the huge mansion more than he'd ever did at home or even, sadly, in Betty's arms. He knows where Tony's favourite cereal is, how well-cooked he wants his eggs to be, how long he wants his coffee to be brewed, and even, god help him, his favourite places to stash his alcohol. Tony claims Bruce spies on him on purpose, that he lives on finding his beer stashes and throwing them away like there's no tomorrow. Bruce just knows Tony really well. And he doesn't know what to say about it.

After that, Bruce would go down to the kitchen, being a little more noisy, a little less reserved than usual, because he knows that it's already five and that Tony has a huge meeting to go in an hour and he is _not_, in any words, ready for it.

He knows the way down the stairs by heart and the mansion doesn't confuse him now as much as it had before. In fact, he even wonders why it had even confused him in the first place.

When he finally reaches the kitchen, he's awake and lively and it doesn't take long for the smells of cooking eggs and brewing coffee to penetrate the previously quiet kitchen. He hums, an AC/DC song, today _Cover You in Oil_, but sometimes it's other ones like _Hail Caesar, _or _Shoot to Thrill_, the latter coincidentally being the song that had announced Tony's arrival long ago to Natasha during the fateful battle with Loki months ago. The apron he's wearing is a gag gift from Tony, and it has oil stains and grease marks from all those times the two had spent having food fights in the kitchen (usually ending with Pepper coming in and remarking how terrible an influence Tony was on Bruce and how he'd effectively taken Bruce down to _his level_, as Pepper likes to call it) Bruce thinks it's the most fun he's had in a long while.

Bruce times how long it takes for Tony to get lured in by the smell of coffee in the morning. It doesn't take long.

And the genius enters the room, sleepy, dead on his feet and hair mussed up as though he's had a morning shag on the carpeted floor. He's wearing a black shirt with the words _Hulk Smash!_ on it, and while it may bother him if it had been on any other person, Bruce just beams a wider than normal beam as his stomach goes _flop-flop_. Because instances like these remind Bruce that Tony doesn't care about the big, green rage monster lurking just underneath his calm exterior. Doesn't mind it, cares for it even. In fact, Bruce doesn't even think Tony refers to the Hulk as an _it_ in his mind.

As Bruce scrutinises his roommate, Tony throws him the smirk that Bruce knows like the back of his hand and loves so bad it makes his insides hurt.

He returns the favour with an easy grin in return.

Tony says something, crude and narcissistic and pertaining to himself, and Bruce laughs aloud.

In no time at all, a plate of well-cooked, golden eggs sit in front of Tony and his morning cup of coffee sit beside it that Bruce knows gives a kick strong enough to power a mini airplane. Or two, or three if you count exactly how many times Tony goes for a refill.

Finally, he's awake enough to speak full sentences and Queen's English and they can finally return barbs that don't really give that much sting and insults that don't really insult at all. The topics usually vary from something as trivial as sports in _News Today! _but sometimes, not very often_, _ they delve into something as deep as their own messed up family histories and failed love lives. Bruce lives for those talks and every time they come around, they give him a nice tingly feeling in his chest from the feeling of being trusted with something, because he knows Tony doesn't share these secrets with anyone and also because he isn't trusted with many things especially with his, _ahem_, condition.

They chat, and talk, and interact like life-long friends and Bruce just slips into it. It's against his nature not to. He wonders how Betty would feel if she saw him now, relaxed and not a care in the world. She probably wouldn't even recognise him. In the mansion, he seems to laugh more, laugh louder, and just… _laugh_. Period. He doesn't think he's ever laughed this much before, come to think of it.

Then Tony tells a joke and all thoughts are banished in his mind and Betty along with it. He lives fully, with two feet, in the present and he's _enjoying _it. _By god, _he's _enjoying_ it! He's in the middle of a full-blown, belly deep laugh when Pepper walks in on them.

He quietens in a second.

Pepper greets Tony like a friend who hasn't seen the other in a long while and smiles gently at Bruce who, now that there's company, is returning to his secluded shell in the confines of his own mind.

He hunches, his eyes turn closed off, his hands stiffen and start fiddling with a loose thread on Tony's shirt that he's wearing (What possessed him to wear the shirt this morning anyway?) In short, he's cutting himself off.

Or at least, that's what he would do if Tony had allowed him to.

With a glare at his increasingly detached form, Tony wraps a comforting arm around Bruce's shoulders because, while he knows Pepper isn't scary by anyone's standards, Bruce hasn't had really that much human contact and it still puts him on edge to be put on display like Nick does sometimes to gain good publicity ever since he joined Avengers. Bruce relaxes immediately.

Slowly, surely, and so painfully effortlessly, he weaves Bruce into the conversation between 'Mr. Stark and Ms. Potts' and Bruce slowly warms up to her. Faster than yesterday, and infinitely an improvement from the first time they met.

When Pepper leaves (_finally_), Tony just gives him that proud look that speaks volumes for his feelings and, sad to say, Bruce laps it up. Laps it all up.

The easy conversation returns.

It's only when Tony and Bruce are back in their lab (_Theirs. _Not his, not Tony's. _Theirs_.), after the meeting, after whatever obligations Tony had in his day, when Tony suddenly says something that's totally unrelated to the topic and just plain out of the blue. In typical Stark fashion.

"Happy birthday, Bruce."

And that's when Bruce blinks and his mouth drops slightly open because he realises that it _is_ his birthday and that a whole four hours had passed without him knowing. Come to think of it, he thinks he's never mentioned his birthday before. How did he know?

That's when he realises that, maybe, Tony knew Bruce as well as Bruce knew Tony because, in hindsight, it's quite clear.

The sandwiches that suddenly turn up at the workbench in the midst of a gruelling experiment never have any of his _detested _pickles.

The CD wall had old classics and science documentaries that Bruce had always watched and loved in his youth.

They'd never gotten in each other's way before in the lab, whether they say instructions out loud or not. It's like they can telepathically sense what's going on in each other's mind before the other actually says it.

And, come to think of it, even the bed shows signs of Tony's consciousness on Bruce's favourite colors. Purple and green. Coincidentally also the Hulk's favourites.

He suddenly realises that Tony may pay as much attention to Bruce as much as Bruce pays to Tony. And the thought gives him butterflies in the stomach.

He swallows down the sudden object in his throat and fights the urge to cry because, _goddamnit_, Bruce Banner and the Hulk don't cry. Ever.

But he can't stop the tears that gather at his eyelids.

Wordlessly, Tony gives him a heartfelt smile, the one that Bruce has only seen twice in the whole time he's spent with Tony (Once when Bruce had accepted his offer to live with him and the second instance, now) and the dams _completely _burst. It's like Tony has just gained the ability to find and step on the dam that had kept his emotions under control after all this time. Stepped on it good and well and left Bruce with only a few pieces of bricks that only keep the feelings of bitterness and anger out.

They continue with their work, Bruce discreetly wiping away a few wayward tears that he stubbornly refused to stay down, and the lab is engulfed in a peaceful, companiable sort of quiet that soothes Bruce and the Hulk within.

They finish the engine they're working on in a day, name it _Big Green_ (Tony's choice, not his. But it still touches him to his core), and snap a quick picture.

When Bruce wakes up the next day from his peaceful slumber, he sees a package next to his bed, beside his Hulk feet slippers. His eyebrows rise and he leans down to place it on his lap.

The wrapping falls, and so do a few tears because Tony hadn't forgotten to give him a present after all.

…

When the Avengers troop into the mansion one by one throughout the course of the next month and a half, (first Clint, then Natasha, then Steve, then Thor) they all see the picture at least once during their stay but they never question it. Stare at it and smile over it, maybe, but they never question it.

The picture is framed and holds a special place on Bruce's bedside and whenever Bruce looks to the side, he's reminded that maybe not everyone hates his existence after all.

_To Bruce, happy birthday Science Bro._

**I wrote this on a whim and, while it didn't turn out the way I expected, I think it's quite nice. My bro commented it's a little cheesy and I kinda' agree but, isn't that the purpose of fluff stories sometimes? ;D Out of ten, would all you lovely reviewers rate my story and give some constructive criticisms and places where I should improve on my writing? Tell me which parts that you liked! No flames, please**_  
_


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